Another French Mistake
by bethanyyerinn
Summary: A bit of a crack fic where a diehard Supernatural fan finds herself in Sam and Dean's world, where things are a little different than the show. Spoilers up through 8.18. Ships: Dean/Jo, Megstiel (they probably won't be brought up much)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**This fic is definitely going to reference everything up through the end of season eight. They've only aired up through 8.18 as of when I am starting this, but I figure I won't finish until after there are a few more episodes. So don't read unless you're caught up!**

**Also, if you don't know anything about the actors, this might be confusing. Just a heads up.**

**Just so you know, this isn't actually a self-insertion fic, even though it might seem like it. This character is not actually me. I would be super lame in the Supernatural world and would die in about 3.5 seconds, so yeah. Don't judge me too hard.**

**Also, rated M because I haven't decided if there will be a sex scene later, but there will definitely be cussing.**

* * *

Shanna woke up with her breathing heavy and her brow covered in a cold sweat. That had been a really, _really_ weird dream. That's what she got for watching _Supernatural_ right before bed. She had been watching The French Mistake, an episode in season six, for about the three millionth time. It was hilarious, especially when you were a diehard fan like her and understood every little reference. Basically, Sam and Dean Winchester found themselves in her world, the world of boring and no magic. The makers of Supernatural apparently didn't believe in a fourth wall, which she was totally fine with.

But anyway, she had a dream that all of the angels in heaven were talking about her (which was weird, seeing as by now most of the angels were dead), about how she was necessary to do something with some sort of tablet… she couldn't really remember anymore. She knew that in season eight, there was the angel tablet and the demon tablet… not that it mattered which tablet it was at all, seeing as it was only a dream.

Shanna felt off. Actually, she didn't remember going to bed, once she thought about it. She looked down and, yes, she hadn't even gotten into pajamas. She was still in her black v-neck tee shirt, tight red jeans, and combat boots of that day. She was still on the couch, and the TV screen was paused on another episode of Supernatural. She hadn't remembered pausing anything. She wondered what episode she was even on. She couldn't tell.

She pushed play and the screen went black for a moment, and then flickered back to life with just a white screen.

"You will be the prophet," she heard. "You will translate the tablet."

She blinked. She had thought she was awake, but this was seeming like a dream again.

Then she woke up again.

This time she was in her bed, and she was in pajamas. What the flying fuck? That was like _Inception_, with a dream in a dream. Maybe she needed to give _Supernatural_ a rest. She could re-watch some other show, one that didn't make her have weird dreams. Maybe she'd go for some BBC shows. She'd heard good things about those. She considered some other CW shows, like the new one _Cult_, except that sounded even weirder than _Supernatural_.

She got ready to go out. It was a Saturday and she was meeting with a friend at a coffee shop. Her friend had graduated college and actually started doing something with her life. Shanna, on the other hand, was twenty-eight years old and still lived in a tiny apartment alone, working as a mechanic at an auto-shop. Her English major was proving even more useless than she thought it would be when it came to being a functioning member of society. She knew more about salting a room than she did paying the bills. Oh well. At least she liked working on the cars, and she didn't mind people calling her obsessed when it came to _Supernatural_. She knew it was true. It just felt like more than just a show sometimes. Like maybe it would help her out someday? She knew it was stupid. But still, it was something to care about, and she didn't have much of that.

She threw on an AC/DC shirt and some ripped jeans before quickly combing through her curly, bright orange hair with her fingers and heading out the door.

She was skateboarding down the street—the coffee shop was close enough that she thought it was stupid to drive—when it happened.

"No fucking way," she muttered. Because walking towards her, talking with frowns on their faces, were Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles. Oddly enough, nobody else on the street was paying them any attention, like they didn't realize there were celebrities walking right by them.

She wanted to play it cool and say nothing to them, but this was fucking Jared and Jensen! She couldn't honestly ignore them.

So instead, she went for very not sly and skated straight towards them, knocking into Jensen. Problem was, she wasn't very graceful, so even though the men were left just standing there, looking at her oddly, she fell to the ground, skinning her arm pretty good.

Wow. She had reached new heights of idiocy with that one.

She got up, ignoring the bleeding.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered. Then she looked up and widened her eyes, pretending to be surprised. "Oh my god. You're Jensen and Jared."

But what happened next, she never would have expected. Jensen grabbed her shirt and dragged her into a nearby ally, slamming her into the brick wall and getting right up in her face. "How the fuck do you know those names?"

She swallowed. Wow, Jensen had always seemed like a pretty decent guy in convention videos. And Jared seemed like the funny guy, but right now he was giving her a steely gaze that made her want to inch into a hole and never come out.

"I—um—" she stuttered. "I'm a huge _Supernatural_ fan," she muttered.

"Those damn books?" Jensen asked in confusion.

"No… the show."

Jared and Jensen looked at each other meaningfully and Shanna narrowed her eyes.

"You two really do steal clothes from the set," she muttered, looking at Jared's plaid shirt and Jensen wearing three extra layers, just like in the show.

"How did this happen again?" Jared hissed.

"Angels must have zapped us," Jensen muttered. "But why?"

Shanna gulped hard again. She was getting a very strong feeling that she wasn't talking to Jared and Jensen. But how was this possible?

"Holy shit," she muttered. They both looked over to her with those hard glares. "You're Sam and Dean. The real Sam and Dean."

"And who the hell are you?" Dean growled.

"Um… my name is Shanna. I watch the show. But apparently, I'm in the show… I really hope I'm asleep right now."

Dean slapped her across the face. Not hard, but enough to surprise her.

"What the hell was that?" she snapped.

"You didn't wake up. So you're probably not sleeping," he decided. She rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for the help," she murmured, shoving him away. He let go, looking a little surprised that she had the nerve to push him, but saying nothing. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone," she said, getting out her phone to text the girl she was supposed to meet. But then when she took it out and looked through the contacts, there were none. She blinked. She looked to her outbox of text messages, but that was also empty. What about pictures? Nope, nothing. That was weird.

She yanked out her wallet. That was still there, and it had an anti-possession sigil on the outside like it always did, but on the inside, a picture of Jared and Jensen that was always there was gone, replaced with a picture of… it was a note. She pulled out the paper.

It read, ".ekatsiM hcnerF ehT ot emocelW"

"Welcome to The French Mistake," she read out loud, knowing that's what it said at first glance. But it said it backwards, which had to mean something. "In The French Mistake, you two get stuck in my world," she reasoned out loud. "Meaning, that if it's backwards… I get stuck in your world."

She looked up at the boys, who were looking confused. "You remember when you got taken into the parallel universe where you were actors. That why you were freaked out when I called you those names." They nodded, still looking lost. Shanna was still kind of surprised they weren't trying to hurt her. "It was an episode in the show called 'The French Mistake'," she explained. "So now I'm stuck in your world… but probably things are wrong."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"When you came to my world, you know how everyone thought that Jared and Jensen never talked?"

"Yeah…"

"Well that wasn't true. Jared and Jensen are best friends. And a lot of people were acting different than they would in real life, like Genevieve and Misha. So I'm figuring that what I see in the show and what I experience here are going to be a little different." She wasn't sure how she was figuring through this so quickly.

Sam and Dean were still looking at her blankly, and then they looked at each other again.

That was when she got hit over the head and blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

Shanna awoke with an intense pain in her head and a sharper, but less painful twinge in her arm. They knocked her out by hitting her over the head, that much was obvious. She was in a chair, her wrists tied to the arms of it and her ankles to the legs. She looked down to the pain in her arm and saw a slice there. There were also red lines on the ground. A demon trap. She couldn't see Sam or Dean, but they had to be in the room.

"Testing me for silver?" she muttered. "I'm not a monster."

Then she was splashed from behind with water. "And holy water. Not a demon either. Please don't try to light me with holy oil, because I think humans die from that too," she said dryly.

"If you're just a normal human, why the hell do you know so much?" Dean demanded in his husky growl of his voice as he and Sam came around the chair. Shanna privately thought they were even sexier in person than on TV. She had never literally understood the joke about being scared and horny at the same time until now.

"I told you already," she insisted. "I'm not from this dimension. Angels zapped me here."

That made Dean narrow his eyes. "Why would they do that?"

"I have no idea," she said, "really, I don't. In my world, I don't do anything. I'm almost thirty and I fix cars in my dad's shop and watch TV most of the time. I don't work out, I'm not smart. Not to mention I don't do well with authority figures, so there's a very slim chance I'll listen to a fucking word that leaves their mouth. I don't know what the fuck they want from me."

"Fix cars?" Dean asked in interest, and Shanna felt like she was going to melt into a puddle on the floor when he gave her that same look he did other girls in the earlier seasons of the show. Sure, he'd fuck anyone, but she was still a tad flattered nonetheless.

"Yeah," she said gruffly, pretending she wasn't still reeling at the fact that she was in these beautiful men's presence. "What's it to you?"

Sam looked over at his brother in exasperation, but Dean seemed to be checking out Shanna. "Dean. Interrogation," he prompted.

"Right," he said. "Sorry."

"Wait," Shanna said suddenly. "The dream I had. The second one. An angel's voice said that I was the prophet that could read the tablet."

Dean and Sam blinked at each other. "Kevin's a prophet. There can only be one," Sam said.

"I don't know!" Shanna said, exasperated. "Honestly, I'm not trying to cause you two any trouble. I didn't think there were even any angels left alive, so—"

"Why wouldn't there be angels left alive?" Dean interrupted.

"Um… When Castiel turned into God and killed all the angels and freed the Leviathans from purgatory?" she replied. "Ring a bell?"

"Well…" Sam muttered, "Cas went bad, yeah, but the angels are all still around."

"Other than the ones we ganked," Dean corrected. "I killed Zachariah myself," he added with a proud smile, sounding like a 3rd grader with a good report card.

"Yeah, that was awesome," Shanna said. "Stabbed him right through the head!"

Dean and Sam looked at her in shock. "Nobody else was in that room. How do you know that?" Sam demanded.

Shanna let out a long sigh. "I thought you were the smart one. I've told you guys twice now. Here I go for a third. I'm from another dimension where your life is a TV show! I know what happened when you were stuck in the time loop and had to watch Dean die over and over again, and you thought it was the trickster but it was always Gabriel. Who got killed by Lucifer in a hotel." She looked to Dean. "And you had sex with Anna, the angel. We saw some of the scene." Dean's ears turned red and he looked at the ground. "You've had a few scenes, actually, like with Cassie and the Amazon lady and—"

"Okay, okay," he snapped, "I get it."

"I could talk about Sam's too, if that'd make you feel better. There's Madison and Ruby and the hot doctor lady when you had no soul—"

"Fuck, okay," Dean interrupted again. "Yeah, there's no way you'd know all this otherwise."

"Unless she's an angel," Sam suggested.

Shanna put up an eyebrow. "Do I seem like an angel to you?"

Sam met eyes with her. "No," he admitted.

"Honestly, the angels brought you into my world once. Why is it so unbelievable that they did the same to me?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other again. "Fucking shit, the brother telepathy is really cute in the show, but now it's just getting on my nerves. Could you just talk out loud?"

They looked over to each other—again—and Dean grinned. "I think I like her," he decided.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, she's like a girl version of you."

"Am not!" Shanna said, insulted.

"You fix cars and are a total smartass," he retorted.

"Yeah, but I'm not an emotionally unstable alcoholic." Dean looked over at her with a glare. "What, are you going to deny it? You are. I still love your character in the show and all, but you're damaged goods, baby."

Sam was trying not to laugh. "Yeah, maybe I like her too."

"Oh, don't get me started on you, tuberculosis boy," she added to Sam.

"Tuberculosis?" Dean asked.

"He's coughing into napkins. It must be something like that. Though Cas could have been lying about being damaged beyond repair, seeing as Naomi had him all brainwashed."

Dean blinked. "You know about this Naomi person?"

"Yeah. She's kind of the villain of this season. Minus Crowley."

"Wait a second," Sam said. "So you literally know more about our lives than we do."

"Probably," Shanna agreed.

Dean began to catch on. "And you could tell us things about our opponents from the show."

"Yeah, that's likely," she acknowledged.

"You know where Cas is?' Dean asked.

She sighed. "No, I don't know that one. He kind of just vanished from the crypt after the cute family moment."

"Family moment?" Sam asked with a smirk.

"Hey," Shanna said, "you were having a good moment with Meg too. The unicorn," she added with a smile. "By the way, if Meg is really dead, I'll be furious. She and Cas are meant to be."

"She and _Cas_?" Sam and Dean asked in unison.

"Yeah," she replied. "I ship it."

"Ship?" Sam inquired warily.

"Oh, nevermind," she said. "Will you please just untie me?" They looked at each other again. "Honestly," she added, "I couldn't fight a poodle, let alone you two."

Finally, Dean came over and cut the rope off of her and she strolled out of the demon trap. "So who else is alive in this world if the angels are?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked defensively. "Who's supposed to be dead?"

Shanna got uncomfortable. "Um… basically everyone. Bobby—"

"Bobby's dead?" Dean barked.

"He's not here?" she asked hopefully.

"No, of course not. We'd never let anyone kill him."

"Oh, thank god," Shanna said. "In the show he got shot by Dick Roman."

They were quiet for a moment. "Who else is dead?"

"A lot of people. Rufus, Ash, Ellen, Jo—"

"Jo?" Dean asked sadly. "Jo died?"

"Yeah," Shanna said. "Season fi—I mean during the apocalypse. She kind of… well, she got gutted by a hellhound and then blew up herself and Ellen to save you guys."

Dean and Sam looked at each other in disgust. "I would never let her do that," Dean said.

Shanna looked at him sadly. "You didn't want to," she insisted. It was odd, because she had always felt for the boys, but seeing them in the flesh made her feel horrible for them, even when so many of the people they loved were alive here.

"Is your dad alive?" Shanna asked. Sam and Dean shook their heads. "Madison?" she asked gently. Sam blinked in surprise, as if he hadn't heard that name in a while.

"No," he replied. "No, she's not."

She nodded. "Well anyway," she said, "sorry to be depressing."

"It's okay," Sam said smoothly, like he wasn't thinking about things he'd rather have left in the back of his head.

"I still don't really know why the angels want me here."

"You said they think you're a prophet?"

"I guess," she said. "But like you said, only one prophet at a time."

Sam and Dean looked at each other with more brother-silent-communication. "Unless something's going to happen to Kevin," Dean said after a moment.

"Oh no," Sam said. "Let's go find him."


	3. Chapter 3

Things started to get even weirder as time went on. Dean and Sam stayed with Shanna as she tried to translate the tablet, but the more she looked at it, the more she couldn't figure out what the hell she was reading.

"Guys," she said. "This makes no sense."

"What?" Dean asked, standing up.

"This is a grocery list."

Sam and Dean gaped at her. "What?" they asked again, in unison this time.

She read her piece of binder paper. "I need eggs, flour, chocolate chips, and sugar for the cookies."

"Um…" Sam said. "Are you sure you're reading it right?"

"Obviously I can't be," she said. "I'll try some more."

She went at it for longer. Dean and Sam left her and came back, because she was at it for weeks. They did a case in that time, found Chrisie again, getting manipulated by a hunter named Victor. They hadn't seen her in more than a week when Shanna called Dean's cell.

"Got anything?" he asked.

"What the actual fuck," she replied.

"What is it?"

"We're getting played, man," she finally said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come over here."

They obeyed, showing up to the Kevin-bunker. She was looking tired and frustrated and Dean felt a little bad. She was going down the same path as Kevin, not sleeping or eating, he could tell that much by looking at her. But they needed to close the gates of hell, so it didn't really matter.

"What's happened?" Sam asked.

"What's happened is the angels are trying to distract you with me," she said.

"Huh?" Sam muttered.

She picked up the paper again. "After the thing about the cookies, there was a lot more stuff that didn't make sense. But just now, at the end, I got this: 'Up in heaven, we are laughing because you think this girl is actually a prophet. Hopefully by the time she's translated all this, we'll have found the tablet, and we have the real prophet already, ready to read it for us.'"

"Shit," Dean snapped.

"I had no idea," Shanna said quickly. "I really didn't."

"We know," Sam replied. "It's okay. Angels do crap like this."

"So what do we do?" Shanna asked.

"Well… try to get you back to your world?" Sam asked.

"Maybe…" she muttered. "But I could still help you guys maybe. Telling you about things you don't know about."

"Do you really want to stay here forever?" Sam asked incredulously.

"No..." she muttered, but Dean got the feeling that maybe she wasn't being entirely honest. Why would she want to be here if she didn't have to be? It was just like the fans of the books in this world. People didn't get how badly this all sucked. "But how would you do that?" she added.

"Beats me. We need angel magic, I think."

"Which we have none of," Dean added. "Cas is a nutjob at the moment."

Sam nodded. "So what about whatever the angels are planning? What are we going to do about that?"

"It's probably something with Naomi," Shanna said. "If Raphael is dead, someone had to take over heaven. The angels always need a leader. So Naomi is leading, but I don't think she's actually an angel."

"You don't?"

"She doesn't act like one," Shanna said. "And in the last episode, she was talking to Crowley like she knew him. But anyway, when you're trying to figure out what's happening, try to figure out about Naomi. If you know her mission, you know heaven's mission."

"Well, before we can figure any of that out, we have to find them," Dean said. "Usually, I'd have Cas help..." he trailed off, thinking about last he saw Cas. He shook it from his mind. "Sam, you stay here, I'll try to get some information."

"Stay here? Why?"

"With Shanna," he explained. "She can't take care of herself."

"Oh, of course," Sam said, as if it were obvious. "We can't leave her here alone."

"I don't want to be a burden," Shanna said. "Really, I'll be fine. Plus, who cares if I die? I'm kind of useless."

Sam looked over to her. "Don't say that. Nobody's useless."

"Plus," Dean added, as if neither of them had said anything, "you're getting all the fun with the trials. I get this."

He sighed. "Fine, whatever. Let me know when you find something."

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**Honestly, this fic is so ridiculous, I'll be really surprised if you got to chapter 3. I'm just bored. Usually I hassle readers about leaving reviews, but I won't with this one. But if you like my writing style, please read some of my other fics. I promise they make more sense. =]**

**Dunno how many chapters this will have yet. We'll see. In fact, unless I get reviews from people wanting more, I might not write any more chapters.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I got a few reviews, so I decided I'll write another chapter or two at least. If I get more requests for more, I'll keep going farther than that, I'd just be shocked if many people are even reading this. So here you go. **

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Dean knew that he needed to find the angels, find Kevin, and make sure that crazy-Cas was actually keeping the tablet safe. But still, he found himself thinking, while he was alone, about all the people Shanna had told him about in his life that were dead in the show she watched. The thought of not having Bobby or Ellen or… or Jo… in his life made his chest hurt. He wondered what kind of person he was in her world. He knew he hadn't been the same since he went to hell, but if he lost all those people… he wasn't sure how he would survive.

So even though he was supposed to be looking for the angels, he found himself driving to Nebraska and parking in front of the Harvelle Roadhouse. He walked inside and was relieved to see Ellen standing there. Somehow, thinking about them being dead so much had made him question whether or not it was true.

"Boy," she said, her voice gruff and angry as usual, "I haven't seen you in years!" She came forward and hugged him tight. "You could've been dead, for all I knew. What've I told you about picking up a damn phone."

"You could've called too," he reminded her.

She smiled. "Yeah, suppose I could've. How are you then? Where's Sam?"

"It's a long story," Dean replied.

"You two fightin' again?"

"No, it's not that. It's angel crap."

She rolled her eyes. "Damn angels are as bad as demons sometimes."

"You're tellin' me," Dean grunted, sitting down at the bar. "Got any whiskey?"

She pulled a bottle from the top shelf. "You ask some stupid questions, boy," she said as she poured him some. He nodded in thanks and drank a longer draught than he had actually meant to.

"Where's Jo?" he asked, trying to make it sound casual.

"Should be back today, if everything went okay," she said.

"What's that mean?"

"She left for her own case a week ago. Said she'd be back today."

"And you haven't gone looking for her? That doesn't sound like you."

Ellen sighed. "If I push too hard, she'll resent me for it. I have to let her grow up."

Dean smirked. "She should be happy she has parents to look out for her at all." He hadn't meant to sound so bitter.

Ellen's eyebrows came together. "You seem off today. Somethin' wrong?"

"Aw, you having a bad day?" someone said weakly.

Ellen and Dean both jumped up at the sound of her voice. "Jo!" Ellen yelled, running over and putting her arm under her armpit to support her. Dean found himself sitting there in total shock. After all that time being scared the people he loved were dead, in she comes to prove him right.

"Holy shit!" he hollered, coming over too. "What the hell happened?"

"It's really not bad," she said, looking down at the wound in her leg, "it just hurt like hell to walk on."

"Not that bad? I'll see about that?" Ellen said. she leaned down on a knee to look at her leg and Dean held her up. She looked up at him with a tired smile.

"Did you come just to see me in pain?"

Dean didn't feel much like joking. He found himself panicking a little. Jo couldn't die, not when he could do something about it. He wouldn't let people he cared about die, never again. So he put his hand on her cheek for a moment and looked into her eyes. Her eyebrows knitted together as she looked at Dean, as if she was trying to figure out why he was acting weird.

"Why didn't you call?" Ellen scolded, breaking their eye contact. Dean let his hand drop.

"Because I'm not a seven year old." Jo paused. "And I lost my phone."

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Let's get this cleaned up."

"Wait, so she's gonna be okay?" Dean asked desperately. Ellen looked up at him with her eyes narrowed. Ellen and Jo both saw right through him, apparently. And he'd thought he was one of those mysterious types.

"It's fine," she said. "A dagger wound?" she asked her daughter. Jo nodded. "It'll just take a few minutes," she assured Dean. He nodded, but he still wasn't letting go of Jo's shoulders.

"Um, Dean," she said. "I have to go get cleaned up."

"Oh," he muttered, letting go, "oh, right. Go ahead."

Jo and Ellen left and Dean sat at the bar, wondering to himself about why he was being such a nutcase. He went out of his way, was neglecting a mission, so he could check to see if they were alright, and he had lost all his sense when he thought for a moment she might die. He should have known it was a non-lethal wound the moment he saw it, but he panicked instead. What the hell was wrong with him?

Dean had the bottle of whiskey by his right hand to pour himself more whenever he needed by the time they came back out. Jo sat at the bar with them, a bandage around her leg.

"It's three in the afternoon," Ellen noticed.

"What're you, my mom?" Dean teased. Ellen blinked at his slurring.

"How much of that have you had?" she asked.

He looked at her, then the bottle, then back at her. Then he shrugged and went to pour himself more.

"Um, no," Ellen said, snatching the bottle from him. "No more. Now boy, you tell me what's wrong. I haven't seen you this worked up… well, maybe ever."

Dean sighed. Maybe usually, he wouldn't have said anything, but the booze had loosened his tongue. "You ever feel like everyone you love is going to die and leave you alone?"

There was a steely silence before Ellen replied, "I'm a Hunter. I feel that way every day." Dean nodded. "But what made you feel that way today?" she asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You don't have enough liquor in this building to make me start talking about my feelings, Ellen."

She shook her head exasperatedly. "Oh, whatever. Just trying to help," she muttered, leaving the room. Now it was just Dean and Jo. He was looking at the bar instead of at her, but he could feel her staring at him.

"Did you think I was dying?" she finally asked.

"No," he muttered.

"And it made you that upset?" she said as if he had said yes.

Instead of answering, he leaned over the bar to grab the alcohol Ellen had taken away. Jo took Dean's hand out of the air. "No, I think you're done with that," Jo said.

Dean looked over to her. "Why?"

She raised an eyebrow. "For one, you aren't letting go of my hand."

He looked down at their hands. He was gripping hers hard, like she might go away if he let go.

"Oh." He let go and didn't try to reach for the alcohol again.

"So are you going to talk about what's going on?" she asked.

"Nothing's going on," he snapped. "All I know is that I'll never let another person I love die. Not on my watch."

She was looking at him in confusion. "Did someone die? Am I missing something?"

He sighed. "It's stupid," he said, "trust me, it's really stupid. I don't know why the hell it's bothering me so much. Honestly, not only is it a TV show, but it's a TV show in another dimension."

She blinked at him. "What?" she asked blankly.

"Long story," he replied. "But it's just got me thinking a lot, I guess. If I didn't have all you guys in my life, I don't know what I'd do."

She smiled. "I never knew you were so sentimental."

"Usually I'm not," he said roughly.

"Hey, don't go denying your best quality. I thought you were just a hopeless pervert."

"I am," he replied with his charming grin. She laughed a little and rolled her eyes, but then their eyes locked and they were left staring at each other.

"Oh," she breathed, "oh, none of that," she said in response to his facial expression. "You really have been drinking too much. Come on, go take a nap or something."

"What, I can only admire you when I've been drinking too much? Pretty sure I do it a lot. Just usually you aren't looking."

She smiled tentatively, like she wasn't sure if she actually wanted to smile at all, and bit her lip. "Come on, Dean. You need rest."

Finally he gave in and sat on the couch. Even in the middle of the day, he fell asleep in seconds.


End file.
